


Heal Me

by abigaillecters



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: ?????, F/M, Lap Sex, Smut, hannigail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 21:04:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigaillecters/pseuds/abigaillecters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abigail knows what she wants, Hannibal wants to give her what she wants but his walls keep getting in the way. A lovely anon asked for shy!Abigail and Hannibal lap sex so here it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heal Me

"Hannibal?" Abigail says to no one in particular one night while she absentmindedly clears the dinner plates from the table. She doesn't expect him to hear her. He's sitting in a large brown leather chair, thumbs firmly planted on his iPad. 

"Yes, Abigail. What is it?" his voice startles her, the expensive bone china slips through her trembling fingers, lands on the floor, and the sound of shattering dishware fills the room. The iPad lands on the chair Hannibal was sitting on and he's at Abigail's side before she can even register that the plate has broken. "Abigail, stay where you are and don't touch anything" he says, calmly. Abigail does as she's told and tries to catch her breath. She can see his muscles straining against his shirt as he crouches on the floor to pick up the pieces of the plate. The way his body moves hypnotizes her and she naively believes he doesn't feel her eyes boring into his back. "Abigail?" he turns around to face her as he places the last piece of cracked china into the silver trash can.

Her name jolts her out of her dream-like state. "Huh? What? Did I say something?"

Letting out a sigh, Hannibal goes back to his chair and leans into the firm brown leather. "I would like to know what's on your mind, Abigail. I can help you". With those words Abigail decides to take a leap of faith and seal both of their fates. 

"I-I do have a problem, Dr. Lecter" his eyes are fixed on hers and he doesn't even ask her to call him Hannibal. "You see I don't have much experience with men and I just um..." he nods, saving her from the embarrassment of having to finish that sentence.

"I see. And you want my help?" he asks with raised eyebrows.

"I'd like it but if you think it's a bad idea or if it makes you uncomfortable or you think I'm too young," the words come up out of her throat before she even knows what she's saying and the look on Hannibal's face makes her feel like she's going to be sick. 

"I do think that this would be a bad idea" his eyes are focused on her lips, which are quivering and trying to hide the fact she's taking slow, deep breaths.

"Oh" she inhales, not wanting to do the opposite.

She starts to walk out of the room when his voice calls her back to him like a siren song. He pats his lap with his hands, motioning for him to come and join her. She stiffens up as she lowers herself carefully onto his lap. He looks at her, waiting for her to speak, and she turns her face away from his, her shyness almost painful to watch. He takes a strand of her chestnut hair and, placing it behind her ear, uses his free hand to turn her face around so that they're looking into each others eyes. Abigail feels her pulse quicken and she's certain that, with his thumb on her neck, Hannibal can feel it too. Abigail tries to speak but this time all the words that she wants to say get caught in her throat. Hannibal responds by softly pressing his lips to hers. The kiss is not hungry or insistent or needy or overwhelming. It's sweet and gentle. Abigail didn't expect that Hannibal's kisses could be so nice or that his mouth would taste so sweet despite the fact that he'd had two glasses of wine with dinner and Abigail didn't particularly care for the taste of wine just yet. 

He pulls his face away from hers for a moment and Abigail shifts her weight from one side of Hannibal's lap to the other. "This is a bad idea," he says, his walls clearly visible to her. She replies by kissing him, still gently, but this time opening his lips with her tongue and inviting him in. "Take your skirt off, Abigail" he doesn't ask her this and he doesn't demand it either. He merely states it and she complies. The only sounds in the room are those of lips on skin and the blue fabric of Abigail's skirt floating to the floor. It's almost musical. 

Hannibal can feel Abigail blushing when he kisses her and he can't deny that he wants her. But she's climbed enough walls for the moment. She can have him now, but on his terms. She kisses him deeper, wrapping her arms around his neck as he lets his fingers wander on the waistband of her purple cotton underwear. Clearly she hadn't anticipated this would happen today. He feels in between her legs and he's shocked by how wet she already is. It's easy for him to slide one finger inside of her at first and then two. She sighs against him, naked legs resting against his clothed thighs. Abigail likes the feeling of his experienced fingers going in and out, his thumb massaging her clit, creating painfully delightful friction against it. As amazing as this feels she wants more, slowly taking off her scarf and blouse as a non-verbal cue to Hannibal. "Doctor Lecter, I want you to fuck me" she says abruptly. They're both startled by the sudden disappearance of her shyness. 

"Abigail," he takes his fingers out of her and stiffens up again. He looks down and sees that he's hard enough to do what she asks and that her mess has left a small stain on his trousers.

"What is it? Did I say something?" her eyes are wide with something akin to fear. It is fear, actually. Fear of rejection. Fear that he'll see her behavior as rude somehow.

"Abigail, we can't. Not now" she doesn't reply to him, merely presses her lips to his collarbone and begins to remove her bra, her underwear having been on the floor almost as long as her skirt has. 

"At least let me see your cock, Doctor Lector. I've never seen one on a man I can actually tolerate before" she says, pressing her bare breasts to his broad chest. 

"I'm afraid I have to keep my word, dear Abigail" he sounds almost mournful about it. It's impossible for him to hide his physical response to her when she starts to rock her hips back and forth. She grinds against the hardness begging to be released from his trousers. Abigail wraps her arms around Hannibal's neck and holds him tightly to her, as if she wants to become part of him. He doesn't wrap his arms around her and she's hurt but she certainly isn't surprised.

As she picks up speed he kisses the scar on her throat over and over. Her skin tastes of the citrus body wash she'd used that morning, her body temperature having made the scent warmer and more inviting. 

"Doctor," she moans as the friction becomes almost unbearable. If it hadn't been for his remarkable self control, he would have unzipped his pants and fucked her right then and there. Her nails dig into his neck when she comes, drawing a bit of blood. When he goes to work the next day he will tell people he cut himself shaving. 

To say that the aftermath is a bit awkward would be an understatement. Abigail gets dressed in silence, her shyness returning tenfold. Until it disappears again after she's covered herself appropriately. 

"Why didn't you fuck me?" she asks, sounding hurt.

"Abigail, it's not that I didn't want to. I just can't let you get that close. Not yet. Do you understand?" he says quietly.

"I want you so much, Doctor Lecter. And I'm sorry that I just admitted it but I feel...unhealthy. I, I need you to heal me," she doesn't cry. Living with Hannibal, she's learned to keep her tears at bay until they're really useful to her cause.

"I will heal you, Abigail. At least I will try to. Just be patient, please. For me." he plants a light kiss on her cheek that makes her heart feel like it's going to burst out of her chest. he nods and walks away to the mezzanine, leaving him to clean up the mess she has made. He's alright with it, though, for it wouldn't be the first time he's had to.


End file.
